"Yoli. Yoli, come on, wake up. Say something to me."

Lizetta's hands were trembling, her voice shattered. She couldn't bring herself to touch Yolanda, fearing she might shatter her into pieces.

How could there be so much blood? Such a torrent flowing from beneath Yoli's head.

"Somebody help! Please, someone save her."

Her vision blurred, everything around her seemed to dissolve into ghostly shadows, a vast emptiness swirling before her eyes.

Only the glaring red beneath Yolanda stood out, so vivid, so scarlet.

It was all her fault. She knew it was reckless, yet she insisted on throwing this damned wedding, and now Yolanda was paying the price because of her.

"Liz."

he caught sight

turning the pristine white into a haunting red, clenched his heart in an iron grip, a suffocating pain. He called out to her unconsciously, but Lizetta seemed not to hear

more panicked than he'd ever felt, but one thing was crystal

anything were to happen to Yolanda, he and Lizetta would be

split second, Remington was down on one knee, swiftly tearing a piece of fabric to carefully

same time, he barked orders at the flustered hotel

the manager snapped back to reality, he fumbled with the walkie

scared. The doctors are on

Lizetta, but the moment she recognized him, her empty gaze filled with intense loathing and coldness, sharp and piercing, as if a million

conflict, never taking initiative to stir up trouble, her

with such deep disdain and almost

that way, as if

in a voice foreign and hoarse, "Don't touch

cold as a storm cloud, while Lizetta looked around desperately for someone

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